


Boots

by TheOnlyCeeCeeJ



Series: The Marvel Jukebox [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Ke$ha song, Drinking to Cope, Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, M/M, One Night Stands, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Porn with Feelings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 00:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlyCeeCeeJ/pseuds/TheOnlyCeeCeeJ
Summary: When the dust had settled and Tony's funeral was over, Peter began his downwards spiral. He was lost and no matter how many people tried to show him that they were there for him, he'd never felt so alone. There was an aching hole burrowing its way through his chest and as time wore on, it got deeper and deeper. Every person who remotely resembled some kind of male role model always ended up leaving him. Though it was through no fault of his own, he seemed to be the common factor in their lives and just that thought ate away at Peter slowly and continuously.Peter Parker doesn't know how to deal with anything following Tony's death. He loses himself in sex and alcohol, traveling cross country, eventually ending up in Tennessee.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: The Marvel Jukebox [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162547
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51
Collections: SSBB Marvel Bingo 2021





	Boots

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first entry for the SSBB Marvel Bingo. Tags from the bingo are Angst and Getting Together. Keep an eye on the collection, this is just the beginning and there are some crazy amazing writers 
> 
> This is loosely inspired by the song Boots by Ke$ha. And when I say loosely, I MEAN LOOSELY! I heard one bit I liked and just ran with it! I seem to have a habit of doing that with songs (as you can see from how many are in my Jukebox series so far!)

When the dust had settled and Tony's funeral was over, Peter began his downwards spiral. He was lost and no matter how many people tried to show him that they were there for him, he'd never felt so alone. There was an aching hole burrowing its way through his chest and as time wore on, it got deeper and deeper. Every person who remotely resembled some kind of male role model always ended up leaving him. Though it was through no fault of his own, he seemed to be the common factor in their lives and just that thought ate away at Peter slowly and continuously.

May tried to be there, but Peter kept himself locked in his room, only opening the door to go to the bathroom, collect the plate of food left outside, or put the finished plates out there for May to collect. Sometimes, he could hear her slide down the wall to sit on the other side of the door, he listened to her voice speaking gently, trying to reassure him. Usually, that would make him feel better, but this deep, aching hole of loss was too much.

He ignored his phone. He didn't want to speak to anyone. They all tried. They called, sent messages, some even emailed in the hopes of getting through to him. Tony's lawyer had to turn up at their apartment eventually because Peter had refused to respond to any communications, meaning he didn't go to Tony's will reading. When the man left, Peter sat on the sofa, the freshly signed paperwork crushed in his hands telling him exactly what Tony had left him. 

Tony's lab and bots were now his. He'd also given Peter shares in the company with the hopes that he'd eventually take on the R&D that Tony was doing, all the plans were locked down with Karen and F.R.I.D.A.Y. so that only he and Pepper would have access. Peter now had a full college fund with letters of recommendation signed by Tony himself, for any college he wanted to go to. And he'd left Peter with an account with more money that he knew what to do with, that would keep topping up from the SI shares and business profits. 

Peter was set for life, but he didn't even want this life of Tony wasn't in it. 

It took weeks for Peter to pull himself together enough to get out of the house and make his way over to the Tower. He stood outside over the road for an hour just staring up at the building, wondering if he even wanted to go in. It wasn't until Happy spotted him and came out to him that he finally considered crossing the threshold. 

When he got to the lab, he hated it. It was cold, quiet, and clinical. Everything was just as Tony had left it. It may as well have been a shrine to the man. Peter managed to convince Happy that he would be OK on his own, but as the door closed, Peter locked it down, turned up the music and curled up on the floor, finally crying for the man that he idolized so much. 

Once Peter was inside, no one was able to get him out. The only person who had the clearance to override his lockdown was Pepper, but she understood the pain that Peter was going through. She would visit him, make sure he had clean clothes, was fed, and sometimes she would just sit with him in silence. The woman didn't try to cheer him up. He appreciated that. He didn’t want to be cheered up. He wanted Tony back.

After a little while, she started to bring Morgan to visit Peter and for a little while, he had a smile on his face, playing games with the little girl and the bots. He may have been dying inside, but he wasn't completely heartless. This little girl lost her father and he wanted to try to be there for her. 

May tried to speak to him as much as she could, but he wasn't very receptive. He'd just tell her that he was OK, he was eating and he wasn't ready to go back to school yet. It took a while before he could bring himself to video chat with her and he could see the pain in her face when she saw him. He knew he was looking pale, a bit skinny, maybe, but he was still here. No matter how much he didn't want to be. 

There were days when he thought about ending it, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew he'd be OK eventually. He just needed time. Time alone. Time to process what had happened. Time to find himself again. He may be distant, but there was no way that he could completely leave May behind. He'd come back to himself one day. It's what Tony would want. 

When Peter found Tony's liquor stash, that's when things changed. The first sip of the whiskey burned. He could feel. That first night he drank from the bottle and lay on the couch listening to Tony's most played songs courtesy of F.R.I.D.A.Y. As the alcohol took over his system, he felt lighter than he had before, freer. By the time the bottle was empty, Peter was floating on a cloud of nothingness, not worrying about his life, Tony's lack thereof, he was just there. For those few hours, he was almost happy. 

Then the hangover kicked in.

Soon started a cycle of waking up, drinking until he passed out, and starting again. As long as he stayed drunk, he didn’t feel so down. When Pepper found him passed out with bottles around him, she burst into tears, remembering finding Tony in the same state many times. Whilst he was passed out, she searched through the entire lab and removed every single alcoholic drink that she could find. She then searched the rest of the tower and made sure that it was completely clear. 

When Peter woke up, he was livid. He had the most awful headache, he felt like he would throw up at any moment and he needed a drink. He searched through every cupboard and drawer but couldn’t find a drop. When he was curled up on the floor, shaking, Pepper came in and tried to talk to him. She offered him support, she offered for him to come and live with her and Morgan for a while if he needed, but the whole exchange ended in a screaming match. So many hurtful words were thrown about that after that, she stopped coming to see him and he was alone again. 

After a few days of wallowing in self-pity and sadness, an idea struck him. Even though he  _ looked _ 17, because of the blip, he was  _ technically _ 22 - if you went by his date of birth, anyway. Peter fired up the computer systems and easily whipped up a fake driver’s license. Even though he felt like shit, he managed to drag himself into the shower and put on some clean clothes; He didn’t want to look like some disgusting drunk in the middle of Manhattan. Once he was ready, he grabbed his wallet and went out to get himself booze. 

As Peter walked the streets, trying to find somewhere to shop, it took him a while to realise that he was walking past so many bars. With a shrug, he walked into the closest one and headed straight to the bar. It wasn’t too busy yet, thank god, and he managed to get a seat. He ordered a couple of shots and the cocktail that looked like it had the most alcohol in it. He handed over his card and asked the bartender to start him up a tab.

“Rough day?” the bartender asked as he placed Peter’s card in front of him. 

“Rough couple of months,” he replied, knocking back the shots with ease. 

Peter sighed as the alcohol burned its way through him and he drank his way through a few cocktails steadily, giving the bartender one-word answers whenever the man spoke to him. He looked around the bar and it was starting to fill up more and the music was getting louder. Peter watched as people drank with their friends, all happy and carefree, and he frowned. This wasn’t what he needed. Peter decided that after this last drink, he would find somewhere to buy booze and go back to the lab. 

Peter downed the last of his drink and called out to the bartender that he was leaving and close up his tab. As he signed the receipt and handed it back, he felt someone slide up beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“Leaving so soon?” the man asked.

“Yeah, it’s not so much fun drinking alone in a place like this,” Peter said, shrugging on his jacket.

“Well how about this, you let me buy you a drink, then you’re not alone.” 

Peter studied the man. He was probably in his late 30’s-early 40’s, he was dressed well - probably Wall Street or something - and he had this look on his face like he knew Peter wouldn’t say no. Peter thought for a moment. The man  _ was  _ handsome, and it sure beat sitting alone for the night. 

Peter slipped his jacket off and sat back down. “I’ll take an old fashioned…” Peter trailed off. 

“Fletcher. Fletcher Elliott. And you are?” Fletcher asked, holding out his hand. 

“Peter Parker.” Peter shook the man’s hand and waited as his drink was ordered. 

_ Definitely better than sitting alone in the lab, _ Peter thought as he sipped on his drink. 

When Peter woke up the next morning, the first thing that he noticed was that he was in a bed. A  _ huge _ bed. As he rolled over, he groaned at the pain in his lower back. As that hit him, all memories of the night before came flooding back. 

The drinks, the kiss, the cab ride. He remembered the man’s teeth on his throat and his nails in his skin. He wasn’t sure if his throat was feeling raspy because of his hangover, having the man’s cock rammed to the back of his throat, or from screaming the man’s name  _ several times _ . 

Peter was ridiculously thankful for the alcohol, since it completely destroyed every single one of his inhibitions and from what Peter could remember, the man couldn’t tell that he had just taken Peter’s virginity. 

Peter turned his head and saw that the man was still asleep and facing away from him. Peter moved slowly and crawled out of the bed. His legs shook a little as he looked around for his clothes. The room was a mess and clothes had been thrown everywhere. He found his boxers closest to the bed and his pants were by the bedroom door. He found his wallet and keys in the pockets and nodded to himself as he quietly opened the door. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, he pulled his boxers and pants on and went in search of the rest of his clothes. He found his shirt in the living room and thankfully, his coat and shoes were by the door. 

Once he had everything sorted he reached for the door handle and let himself out as quietly as he possibly could. He stepped out of the building and looked around, immediately noticing that he was on the Upper West Side. He sighed, glad that he wasn’t  _ too _ far from the tower. He hailed a cab and ignored the strange looks the driver gave him as he asked to be taken to Stark Tower looking like he was doing the walk of shame.

When he got back into the lab, he immediately flopped down on the couch, letting his mind wander over the events of the previous night. He’d had alcohol that he wanted, but going home with that man had made him forget about everything in his life; For the night, he was happy, content, and he wasn’t alone. 

He wanted it more. 

Peter started to try and rebuild his relationships for the daytime, stopping the drinking and being around people; He’d see May, Happy, Pepper and Morgan regularly, he actually started speaking with his friends again, though he still refused to go to school or back to Queens. He moved into one of the bedrooms in the tower in an attempt to reassure the women that he was on the mend, no longer locked away in the lab, and could be left alone in the evenings without worry. 

Then at night, he’d get himself dressed up and sit at one of the many bars and wait for someone to come up to him - they always did. He’d drink, he’d chat, then he’d go back to their apartment in a tangle of limbs, every bit of pain forgotten as he called out a different man’s name. 

He'd found his coping method. He's found his outlet. No one needed to know. No one would find out. 

When May tried to broach the subject of school again over the Christmas break, Peter told her he still wasn't ready. He just couldn't bear to be around people and not be able to say what had him so down, why he hadn't been in class for so long. Somehow, May managed to convince the school that Peter would do all of his class work from home and in an attempt to keep his nightly activities a secret, Peter kept up with his schoolwork, plus he worked on some extra credit assignments. It was a decent distraction from thinking about Tony. It wasn't like the work was even difficult. He could've been doing Senior or College level work and still not breaking a sweat. 

By the end of the school year, Peter was fully caught up with all of his work and managed to convince May, Pepper and Happy that he was well enough to spend his summer however he wanted, wherever he wanted. He was fine in their eyes and they thought it might do him some good. He even promised to think about returning to school in the fall, just to sweeten the deal.

So Peter packed his bags and, first-class ticket in hand, boarded the plane. After so long being picked up by the arrogant Wall Street men and pumped up College guys, Peter was bored. He needed some variety. So he planned to spend his summer traveling across America. With such a huge country, there's bound to be so many types of men he can have fun with. 

Wherever Peter landed, he hopped into a cab and asked the driver to take him to the nicest hotel in town. Ignoring the weird looks from the driver, he'd relax in his seat buzzing with excitement; It's as though that first night sparked something inside him that he couldn't stop. When he'd get to the hotel, the person on the front desk usually tried to brush him off until he pulled out the black card for the account Tony had given to him, then they'd offer him the nicest room that they had available. 

As soon as he’d get to his room, he’d either hit the minibar or order a few drinks so that he could begin to get the buzz he needed. When it was late enough, he'd ring the concierge and ask them to book him a car to the best bar or club in town, where he would drink himself into oblivion and allow himself to be dragged stumbling from the building by some nameless stranger. Sometimes he would end up at their apartment and sometimes he would take them back to his hotel. 

He much preferred going back to their apartments even if he did have to do the walk of shame, trying to get a taxi in a random city usually with a limp in his step. It was so much easier to slip out while they were sleeping and not have that awkward goodbye. Whenever he took guys back to his hotel, they seemed to try to get all clingy; wanting breakfast, snuggling in bed, some of them just wanted to hang out. Peter wanted them to leave. They had served their purpose. 

Peter spent a few days in a city before packing up and moving on. He never stayed in one place for more than a week. While he was in each city, when he wasn’t  _ too _ hungover, he would go out and make sure he took pictures with some landmarks or in cute little coffee shops so that he could send them to May and keep her placated. He let her know he was still alive and was smiling. She needed to see that he was ok. He didn’t want her to worry. 

It was toward the end of the second month that Peter found himself stumbling through Knoxville, Tennessee. He had been to a couple of bars already and had found himself getting into drinking contests with the locals, which was fun, but there had only been friendly people there, not the kind of people who would be interested in what he was looking for. 

He stepped out of the bar and asked the security guard where the nearest gay bar was. The security guy gave him a look that said ‘don’t you think you’ve had enough?’ but Peter was ridiculously insistent and eventually managed to coax the directions and a cab out of the man. He was pretty sure that the man only did it so Peter would leave him alone but Peter didn’t care. He got what he wanted. 

Peter grinned as he sauntered into the bar. He had had a little bit of time to sober up just enough for the doorman and bartenders to believe he hadn’t been drinking most of the day. After all this time, he’d actually got quite good at his ‘sober face’. He ordered a drink and a couple of shots and before he’d even finished the second shot, a hand was already round his waist, a hard body pressed against his back.  _ This was more like it. _

Peter spent the next few hours with David, at least that’s what he thought his name was, it didn’t exactly matter; The guy was charming and, even though he was drunk, Peter could tell that he was hot. He may be kinda desperate, but he had standards. Peter hadn’t been planning to spend the entire evening with the same person, he’d just got to Knoxville, but what the hell, he could come back the next day or something. 

Peter left his new friend on the dancefloor so that he could get them a couple more drinks and as he waited to be served, his spidey sense went off. He could feel eyes on him, but not like all the others. There was something different about this. He could tell that he wasn’t in danger, but there was  _ something  _ about this… 

Peter tried to ignore the feeling but he could tell that the person was getting closer. He took a few steadying breaths as the person slid next to him. 

“As I live and breathe,” they said. “Peter Parker, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

When Peter woke up, the first thing he noticed was the ridiculous banging headache that he had. As his mind started to awaken properly, he let out a groan; His mouth felt like sandpaper and tasted like the bottom of a hobo’s shoe. He needed to clean himself up, get some food and load himself with painkillers - his best way of getting rid of a hangover.

He let his eyes flutter opening slightly before he snapped them shut once more.  _ Fuck! Why are the goddamn curtains open!?  _ Peter cracked his eyes again and slowly let his vision clear as much as it could; Peter was pretty sure he was still drunk, given the way the room was spinning. 

Peter took a few deep breaths and focused, staring at the wooden ceiling.  _ Wooden ceiling? Where the hell am I? _ Peter sat up slowly and groaned again, leaning forward and dropping his head into his hands.  _ How much did I drink last night?  _ he thought to himself. He was pretty used to hangovers but this was a whole other level.

When he was able to, he lifted his head and looked to his side. The person who must be the owner of the house that he was currently in. Most of the night was a blur but the ache in his ass told him that he had had a good night. The guy was facing away from him and seemed to be fast asleep which made Peter sigh in relief. He studied what he could of the man and hummed quietly. He looked much younger than he usually went, but he definitely wasn’t one to complain about a one night stand that he could barely remember.

Peter looked at the clock and was glad that it was still pretty early. Hopefully the guy would stay asleep long enough for him to sneak out. He looked around the room, finally taking it in; It was pretty small and the floor was completely covered in clothes, shoes and tools - Peter had no idea how they had made it through it all and to the bed considering how drunk they must have been. 

Peter lifted the covers gently and slowly tried to move his feet to the floor, hovering them over a pile of junk with a grimace. He looked around and spotted a pair of cowboy boots within arm’s reach. Peter slipped them on, thankful they were a little loose, and stepped to the floor. Peter started to stagger through the mess, picking up items of clothing and discarding them again each time he realized they weren’t his.  _ Where the fuck are my clothes? Maybe they’re somewhere else in the place.  _ Peter stumbled over to the bedroom door and tried to open the door as quietly as he could.  _ I hope he doesn’t have roommates, or live with his parents! _ he thought.

As he pulled the door open, it creaked loudly, making Peter stop and turn back to the bed. The guy hadn’t moved. Peter let out the breath that he was holding and as he pulled the door open further. 

“Leaving so soon, Parker?”

Peter froze, instantly recognizing the voice, and turned around. With wide eyes, he turned towards the bed and memories of the night came flashing back. 

“Harley?”

_ “As I live and breathe, Peter Parker, in my neck of the woods?” _

_ Peter turned around and at first, his eyes widened as they landed on Harley Keener. He hadn’t seen Harley since Tony’s funeral. Peter’s initial shocked look turned to one of pain. He hadn’t thought about Tony in a hot minute and now that the man had crossed his mind, Peter decided that he wasn’t drunk enough.  _

_ He turned from Harley and was thankful that the bartender was standing in front of him so he could order a few shots. Peter stayed silent as the man poured the drinks. Peter pushed a shot over to Harley and immediately downed the rest of his, enjoying the familiar burn of the alcohol down his throat.  _

_ He turned to Harley to see the young man placing his empty shot glass on the bar top. “So, what are you doing here?” Peter asked. _

_ “I should be asking you that question. I live here, sweetheart,” Harley winked.  _

_ Peter felt heat creep up his neck as Harley smirked at him, and he wasn’t sure whether it was the shots that he had just downed or the look that Harley was giving him; He was looking Peter up and down like he was studying every part of him. Peter had been subject to looks like this before, many times, but there was something behind Harley’s eyes that said something else. _

_ Peter instantly forgot about the other guy that he had been with, Harley beat him out in every way. Peter hadn’t really ever had a chance to  _ **_look_ ** _ at Harley but in that moment, he was ridiculously thankful that he had ended up in this bar in this town on this night. Harley was a level of gorgeous that Peter didn’t think was possible; He was so much taller than Peter and his arms looked as though they were desperate to burst out of the t-shirt that he had on. Peter looked up at his face once more and all he could think about was running his tongue along that perfect jawline.  _

_ Peter was broken from his incredibly obvious staring when Harley chuckled. Peter couldn’t control the blush that creeped across his cheeks and frankly, he couldn’t care less, especially when he noticed Harley’s eyes darken as he licked his lips. _

_ “So how ‘bout I buy you a drink and you show me how you New York boys dance.” _

_ The pair spent the rest of the night on the dancefloor wrapped around each other. Hands roamed under clothing as they kissed hungrily, not caring about anyone around them, they acted like they were the only ones in the room. It wasn’t long before they were stumbling out of the bar yelling profanities at the security guard who had thrown them out of the bar; Apparently, they weren’t too impressed with Harley having his hand down Peter’s pants very obviously giving him a hand job.  _

_ As they waited for a cab, Harley had Peter pressed against the wall, his leg between the smaller man’s thighs and his lips attached to Peter’s smooth, pale throat. Peter moaned and rutted against the leg between his, desperate for as much friction as he could get, a little pissed that they had been interrupted on the dance floor.  _ **_He was horny for christ’s sake!_ **

_ The whole cab ride was spent practically horizontal with Harley covering as much of Peter as he could in the cramped space. The driver stayed silent and kept his eyes on the road, not wanting to see what was going on in the back seat. Luckily, it wasn’t a long cab ride, though when the car came to a stop, the men didn’t separate, too lost in each other. The cab driver honked the horn, making the pair jump apart, laughing out an apology as they handed the driver cash and tumbled out onto the floor.  _

_ As the driver screeched away, apparently desperate to get away from the laughing pair, Harley hauled himself off of the floor and held out his hand to pull Peter to his feet. They stumbled hand-in-hand down the last part of the driveway and as he reached into his pocket for his keys, Harley pressed Peter against the door, latching onto his neck, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin.  _

_ As Harley fumbled to get the key in the lock, Peter moaned and pushed his hips forward against Harley's. “Hurry up, Keener,” Peter whined. _

_ Harley pulled back from Peter’s neck and admired the bruise forming (it wouldn’t last, but it was nice to see for now) before he gave Peter a smile. “We’ve got all the time in the world, darlin’,” he replied, pressing a quick peck to Peter’s lips. _

_ Peter leaned forward chasing Harley’s lips, which Harley gladly granted, attacking Peter’s mouth once more. As he surged forward, the key finally slid into the lock and they both fell through the door with a grunt, Harley’s body covering Peter’s.  _

_ Peter took the moment of shock to flip their positions, straddling Harley’s waist. Peter grinned as he lifted his shirt off, throwing it somewhere - he didn’t know or care where, it might have even landed outside - before he leaned over and pressed his lips to Harley’s. They kissed with a hunger and desperation that spoke volumes of what was to come. _

_ Harley wrapped his arms tightly around Peter, groaning as Peter’s fingers found themselves in his hair. Harley’s hands smoothed down Peter’s back to his ass, squeezing and dragging their clothed cocks together. As Peter whimpered into his mouth, Harley wormed one of his hands down the back of Peter’s pants, brushing a finger along his hole. _

_ Peter broke the kiss and let out a moan. “Where’s the bedroom?” Peter asked against Harley’s lips. _

_ “End of the hall,” Harley breathed, running his hands up Peter’s back, leaning up to try and kiss him once more. _

_ Peter pressed a quick peck to Harley’s lips and untangled himself from the heap on the floor, stumbling his way down the hall. Harley laughed at Peter struggling like bambi before he pushed himself off the floor, closed the front door and ran up to Peter, lifting him up and carrying him to the bedroom. _

_ Harley tossed Peter onto the bed and scrambled out of his clothes, before climbing onto the bed between Peter’s open legs and covering Peter’s body with his own. Peter wrapped his legs around Harley’s waist and whimpered when Harley’s hand tangled in his curls, pulling his head to the side so that the man above him could attack his throat.  _

_ Harley somehow shimmied himself free of Peter’s leg’s death grip and trailed his lips down the body beneath him, grinning at the little moans and whimpers Peter let out. Harley unbuckled Peter’s pants and pulled them off as he continued to pepper kisses across the toned stomach beneath him.  _

_ When Harley wrapped his lips around Peter’s cock, Peter let out a loud moan and his hands flew to Harley’s hair, just desperate for something to hold on to. Harley didn’t waste any time messing about as he took Peter all the way in and started bobbing his head and sucking as fast as he could.  _

_ Peter threw his head back, body already shaking. “Fuck, Harley, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” _

_ Harley let Peter’s cock go with a pop and smirked. “That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he said before taking Peter back down his throat.  _

_ As he continued, Harley felt around the floor around him grabbed the lube which conveniently happened to be laying on the floor beside him. He quickly coated his fingers and circled his now-wet fingers over Peter’s hole lightly before pressing the first one in. Peter let out a long moan, overwhelmed by the double sensations. His lust-addled mind was desperate for more and started pressing his hips down onto Harley’s finger.  _

_ Harley grinned around the cock in his mouth and pulled his finger out, pressing in a second. He continued sucking Peter’s cock and finger fucking him until Peter was a screaming, writhing mess. Harley pressed in deep and hooked his fingers a few times and eventually found what he was looking for, pressing against Peter’s prostate. Peter bucked up hard, making Harley choke a little but neither man cared in that moment. _

_ “Har… Harley please, I’m ready, just fuck me already!” Peter panted out.  _

_ Harley pulled his fingers out and pulled off of Peter’s cock, letting it drop back to against Peter’s stomach with a wet slap. Harley kneeled up on the bed and slicked up his cock, looking down at Peter with a smirk. Peter was covered in sweat, panting heavily and bucking his hips lazily, begging for attention. _

_ “Well, since you asked so nicely,” Harley began before he lined his cock up and slowly pressed in.  _

_ Peter, too far gone for anything slow, wrapped his legs around Harley’s waist and tightened them, pulling Harley into him to the hilt. Both men groaned loudly, Peter feeling so full and Harley almost suffocated by the tight, warm heat of Peter’s ass. _

_ “I said ‘fuck me’, Harley,” Peter growled, lifting his hips and pulling Harley in even deeper.  _

_ “Shit, darlin’,” Harley breathed. He leaned down and kissed Peter hungrily. When he pulled back, he said, “Talk to me like that, I’ll do anything you want.” _

_ Harley pushed off the bed completely and stood, grabbing Peter by the ankles and dragging him until his ass hung off the edge of the bed. Lifting Peter’s hips, he lined himself up and slammed back in, beginning a brutal pace that had Peter screaming. Harley held Peter’s hips tightly, dragging his boneless body onto his cock, the pair moaning each other’s names.  _

_ With all of the lead up and foreplay they’d had on the way back to his house, it didn’t take long before both men were teetering on the edge. Harley’s movements began to stutter and lose their rhythm as he tried to hold off his orgasm as long as he could. Peter regained some of his own mobility as he reached up and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it with a desperation that gave Harley a last wind, picking up the pace once more.  _

_ A couple of well-placed thrusts against his prostate had Peter arcing up, cum painting his skin and ass clenching around Harley, who followed quickly after, leaning down to capture Peter’s lips as he filled him. They kissed languidly as they rode out their orgasms, Harley swallowing Peter’s whimpers of overstimulation.  _

_ When they finally came down from their high, Harley pulled out and lifted Peter further up the bed. With the mix of alcohol and exhaustion, the pair quickly passed out, asleep without another word. _

Harley chuckled at the look on Peter’s face. “With the way that you were screaming my name last night, I hoped it would have been a bit more memorable.”

“I did have quite a lot to drink,” Peter replied, going back to searching the room for his clothes, not needing to be quiet now that Harley was awake.

“You did put ‘em away, darlin’. Can’t keep up with us Tennessee boys, eh?”

“Hah! You’re funny. Look, can you help me find my underwear, I really should get going, I’ve gotta book a flight to…” Peter trailed off, unsure of how to end that sentence.

“To where?” 

“Um… I don’t know really. Anywhere.”

“Aw come on, at least stay for breakfast,” Harley asked, giving Peter his best puppy dog eyes.

“It’s ok, Harley, really. I can get something at the hotel.”

“Pete. Please. It would be great to catch up with you properly. You know… sober. And clothed.” Harley’s face broke into a huge grin as Peter blushed and looked down at himself. 

Peter tried to hide his deepening blush. “Fine. Will you help me find my underwear then?”

Harley hummed. “I don’t think I will. I’m definitely liking the look you’ve got going, you can stay like that,” he winked. 

Peter hopped in the shower while Harley rummaged around for some clothes, which he laid out on the bed. As Peter shrugged on the clothes, Harley had a quick shower. When he came out, towel wrapped around his waist, he didn’t miss the blush that spread across Peter’s cheeks, or the way his eyes darkened as he dropped his towel to put on his underwear - They’d already seen each other naked, why bother with ‘decency’?!

Harley led the way to the kitchen and as he pulled out the pans and ingredients he needed, Peter hopped up on the counter beside the cooker with a sweet smile. Harley laughed and shook his head as he carried on, going to the fridge to grab some juice which he poured and handed to Peter. 

Harley switched on the radio and the pair fell into easy conversation while he cooked. It was nice. There was no morning after awkwardness and it seemed they had a lot in common. Peter couldn’t be more thankful that these were things that had nothing to do with Tony; He was basically sobered up and didn’t need to think about him right now. 

When they fell into a comfortable silence, Peter was content to simply sit and watch Harley work, frying enough bacon, eggs, and pancakes to feed a small army. Peter smiled dreamily as he observed the man, feeling genuinely happy in that moment. It was the first time that he had felt like this in… he couldn’t even remember the last time that he had felt like this. He had no worries, there weren’t any weird aliens trying to kill him, he was just Peter.

Without realizing, Peter whispered, “A man who can cook… So hot.”

Harley turned to Peter with a smirk. “What was that, darlin’?” he asked, plating up the last of the food and switching off the burners. 

Peter blushed. “Nothing.”

Harley walked over and placed his hands on Peter’s thighs, spreading them and standing between them. “Uh uh, you said something about me and I wanna know what it is.” Harley wrapped his arms around Peter and gripped his ass, pulling him towards the edge of the counter and pressing their bodies together. “What did you say?” he whispered, leaning forward to press his lips gently against Peter’s pulse point.

Peter gasped. “I said… You’re…” Harley sunk his teeth into Peter’s neck. “... _ Hot.” _

Harley pulled back and grinned. “Now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

Harley wrapped one arm around Peter’s waist, lifting him slightly as he other hand gripped the waistband of the shorts that Peter had on, yanking them down over his ass. Harley stepped back so that he could pull the shorts off completely before returning to his place between Peter’s legs. Peter whimpered as his bare cock brushed against Harley’s shirt. 

Harley pulled Peter even closer, trapping Peter’s cock between their bodies. “You wanna know what I find hot?” Harley asked, kissing Peter. “You…” He kissed Peter again. “...half naked…” He kissed Peter’s jaw. “...on my counter…” He pressed a kiss to Peter’s throat. 

“ _ Please… _ ” Peter moaned, rocking his hips a little 

Harley hummed. “Mmmmm, that’s it. I like hearing you beg, Pete.”

“Ha-Harley…” Peter stuttered out, breathing heavily.

Knowing what Peter wanted - what they both wanted - Harley pulled the front of his shorts down enough to free his cock. He lined himself up with Peter’s hole and looked up at Peter asking silent permission. Peter simply grabbed Harley’s face and pulled him in for a deep kiss, bearing his hips down. As he kissed back, Harley tightened his grip around Peter’s waist and dragged Peter onto his cock until he was buried deep. 

Harley’s tongue in Peter’s mouth muffled his cries. While it had only been a few hours since they had last fucked, the burn was verging on painful, but Peter’s desperation heavily outweighed the need for lube and prep; He’d deal with it after, all that mattered in this moment was Harley hammering into him.

By the time they both came, they were covered in sweat and cum, and their food was cold. It wasn’t until after a shared shower that they re-heated and ate their food. As the day continued, Harley managed to convince Peter to check out of the hotel and stay with him “until you decide where you’re off to next.”

As the days turned to weeks, the young men got closer and closer. They spent most of the daytime working together in Harley’s garage and the nights were spent wrapped around each other. Sometimes they fucked, wild and desperate, and other times they took their time, wanting to draw out the pleasure and learn everything they could about each other’s bodies. They didn’t always have sex, sometimes they would just lay together and sleep. It was almost like domesticated bliss. Here, Peter was able to forget about all of his problems. With Harley, he didn’t need to drink. He was Peter again. 

“I miss him too, you know,” Harley whispered one night, one arm wrapped around Peter after yet another mind-blowing orgasm. 

Peter froze as tears sprung up in his eyes. “Don’t…”

“Peter, look. I know that you spent a lot more time actually  _ with  _ Tony than I did, but I’ve known him so much longer. You’re not the only one who is hurting…”

“I know I’m not!” Peter cut in angrily, turning to face Harley. He took a moment to breathe. “There’s Pepper, Morgan, and Happy. I know, but I just… It’s different,” he said quietly.

“Sweetheart, grief is always gonna be different for everyone. But you need to know that people are here for you. I’m here for you.” Harley ran his fingers through Peter’s curls with a gentle smile. “I know being who you are is difficult. You can’t explain to everyone else why you’re so affected by it all without revealing yourself or looking like some crazed fan. Believe me, I know exactly how it feels.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darlin’. It took some time, but I managed to get through mine. I wanna be here for you to get through yours. No matter how long it takes. You wanna cry? You cry. You wanna scream? You scream. You wanna get completely wasted for the night? Ok, not the best coping mechanism, but I will be there by your side to look after you and make sure you’re safe.”

“Harley, you don’t have to do that,” Peter said, ducking his head.

Harley placed a finger under Peter’s chin and lifted his head so their eyes could connect. “I’m not doing it because I  _ have  _ to, baby, I’m doing it because I  _ want  _ to. Look, I know we probably didn’t start this off in the right way - though that first night was  _ amazing _ \- but to me… I don’t want this to be some holiday fling and then you up and leave and we go back to barely knowing each other.”

“You don’t?” Peter asked, worried by the hope that began to bloom in his chest. 

Harley shook his head. “Contrary to my recent actions, I don’t jump into bed with just about anyone. I… Peter, I like you a lot.” A tear fell from Peter’s eyes, which Harley immediately wiped away. “Why’d you think I tried to convince you to stay. You just stumbled your way into my world and there was no way I was letting you sneak out the next morning in nothing but my boots.”

Peter smiled. “I thought you liked me in nothing but your boots.”

“Oh darlin’, I love you wearing nothing but my boots,” Harley grinned, “I have half a mind to get you to throw on a cowboy hat with it, too.”

“You’re an idiot,” Peter laughed, pulling Harley in for a kiss. 

As May traveled to the Tower, she didn’t know what to expect. Peter had called her and let her know that he was back in the city and really wanted to speak to her. When she finished her shift, she made her way straight there, filled with so much worry. Peter hadn’t been himself for months, he’d been withdrawn, he’d been drinking, he’d flown himself all over the country doing god knows what. Peter’s message had been ominous and she didn’t like that she was expecting the worst, despite the small amount of something in his voice that sounded hopeful.

When the elevator doors opened, May’s eyes widened. Peter was curled up on the large sofa with a young man that she vaguely recognized. Their hands were clasped together as they laughed at something on the TV. It was so calm and domestic, and May couldn’t help but smile. The young man holding her nephew was the first to notice her arrival and nudged Peter slightly. 

May gasped as Peter turned to look at her. The light that she hadn’t seen in his eyes was finally back. It wasn’t completely the same, but it was there. Her baby was coming back. Peter untangled himself from where he was and ran across the room, wrapping may in a huge hug. May held on tightly and they stayed like that for who knows how long. 

When they finally pulled apart, May held Peter’s face in her hands, the pair of them laughing softly as they looked at each other’s tear streaked faces. “Oh my baby, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Peter smiled. May’s eyes looked over Peter’s shoulder to the other person in the room. Peter blushed. “May, you remember Harley Keener? He was at Mr. Stark’s… He knew Mr. Stark.” 

Harley stood and walked over to May with a hand held out. “It’s nice to meet you properly, ma’am.”

May smacked his hand out of the way and pulled Harley in for a hug. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Harley,” she said. As she pulled back from the embrace, she smiled at the pair. “I guess there’s a story I need to hear?”

Peter nodded nervously. “Yeah. We should sit down.” 

During their time together before returning to New York, Harley kept his promise, helping Peter work through his grief. There had been a lot of tears, a few arguments, and  _ a lot _ of sex but Harley finally managed to convince Peter that he needed to talk to May properly. He knew from everything Peter had told him about her, that she was the kind of person who just wanted to be there and would support him no matter what. 

Peter sat down between the pair, holding one of their hands in his. Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, wondering where he could start. Harley squeezed his hand in encouragement and Peter gave him a gentle smile. May squeezed his other hand and placed her other hand on their joined ones, silently telling Peter that he could take his time. 

“First off, May, I’d like to say that I’m sorry.” Peter sighed. “After Mr. Stark… died, I wasn’t myself and I shouldn’t have shut you out. I… I did some things I’m not proud of, that I know you wouldn’t be proud of either, but I’m past that now.”

“Oh, sweetie, you know I love you no matter what. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just glad to have you back with me,” she said, offering him a watery smile.

“No, I do. You need to know, and I need to tell you. It’s the only way that I can truly heal and get past all of this and move on. Harley showed me it’s what I need to do,” Peter said, giving Harley a small smile, receiving an identical smile back. 

“You’ve found yourself a good one, Pete,” May smiled.

“Yeah, I have,” Peter grinned. 

Harley pressed a kiss to Peter’s head. “You can do this,” he whispered. 

Peter nodded and opened his mouth to speak, every feeling that he’d had bottled up falling out like a waterfall. This was probably the hardest part of his healing process that he would have to go through. But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I love kudos, of course, but I'd love to know what y'all think, drop me a comment if you want :)
> 
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